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Friday, December 30, 2011

Rx

Dr. Figg's wife attacked him with a caduceus--Dr. Pennington gave him apple cider to counteract moral rot, and tincture of opium for the pain;Soon Dr. Figg recovered, though he gave up his practice and spent long days sitting in his garden,Tying sailor's knots.

Dr. Andrews championed luck, even in the most extreme cases--He instructed his nurse to fold four leaf clovers into the charts of his patients;Within a week, the files were in perfect order,Because all of the subjects had died, though it has to be said,None expired by accident or misadventure.

Dr. Hanley was a student of the four humors--At night, in his office, he studied black and yellow bile, until it drove him to despair;Paliative treatments became his specialty,And in furtherance of this policy, he left revolvers on the examining table pillows,And bullets in a nearby emesis basin.In time, Dr. Andrews gave up practice and became a clergyman--Dr. Hanley an undertaker."What ever became of Dr. Figg?" one asked the other at graveside one afternoon;Unknown to them, he had adopted a life at sea,Drinking no salt water,And husbanding a wedge of limeBelow decks,Next to his harpoon and an ivory comb with a pastoral scene carved into the handle._____This began as a comment I made yesterday at somebody's blog. I decided to expand it here.

Strange that I often find a line to work on hidden in a comment I leave on a poet's blog. i couldn't imagine what the original comment might have been nor the context, but this is untempered baroque in its bizarre story-line and infinite details.

I agree with Kerry--quite a tale herein, with your mad steampunk overtones for seasoning. I especially like the Dr. Hanley stanza, though personality-wise, I think I'd feel more comfortable with Figg. Bizarre and imaginative, and infinitely fun to read.

My new book !

Modesty spoken here.

kindred spirits

"I have been blessed with these two gorgeousWings and I refuse to load my heart with weights."

--Marina Tsvetaeva

“I'd rather sing one wild song and burst my heart with it, than live a thousand years watching my digestion and being afraid of the wet.” ― Jack London, The Turtles of Tasman

"The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all." — Ted Hughes

Poetry made from...

...trinkets, mojo, and double mocha latte!

Welcome to the Word Garden

The Word Garden consists of original poems written by me, Shay a.k.a. Fireblossom. Please stop a while and enjoy them. But don't pick the blooms that you find here, they must not be planted elsewhere without permission of the author.